


The Maybe Waltz

by TheSilentUnderworld



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bottom Hux, Dancing, M/M, Top Kylo Ren, Virgin Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilentUnderworld/pseuds/TheSilentUnderworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When starkiller died, Hux should have in turn. The scavenger, the traitor, Ren too. Han solo had. It should have been a great dying, and the universe would have shook and split, and the galaxy unraveled. The resistance would have had a General incapable of functioning with the great loss they had experienced then, rather than the New Order and the General it had now.</p><p>Or at least, that's what Hux thought, and though it very loud. </p><p>Loud enough for a particular force user to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Maybe Waltz

 

He would have let the room cave in on him. He should have let the room cave in on him. **  
**

When starkiller died, Hux should have in turn. The scavenger, the traitor, Ren too. Han solo had. It should have been a great dying, and the universe would have shook and split, and the galaxy unraveled. The resistance would have had a general incapable of functioning with the great loss they had experienced then, rather than the New Order and the General it had now.

But they were alive, still, and the universe was not unraveling, not just yet. Only Hux. He screamed. He let stars burst inside of him. He let the frost that chilled his skin, concealing him from the threat of feeling, burn in the supernova. And for the first time in his life felt the true burning rage that made one want all things crumble like empires to ages. He was Starkiller, his room was a system. He snapped chair legs over desks and shattered picture frames and ripped papers, the few physical copies he had, to shreds.

This was him for a long while. This was him before the calm set in, no more red in his eyes, no more shattering glass to distract him. Silence.

The next part came, the worst part after anger. The sinking. The sadness. The impossible self hatred. He stood in the center of a hurricane panting, looked at what he had done, and slid to the ground.

He cried, and could barely remember how it went, a beat without a melody. He felt like a child, could almost smell the rain from eras long since passed. You do not cry in a position like his. Not even after the worst failure of your career. Not even if you knew you would be executed for it, likely.

But he cried, and he hated himself, and he let this disappointment fill him and take him over for what seemed an eternal expanse of time. Face red, chest heaving, a headache hitting stronger and stronger with each gasp because he wasn’t getting enough air. He was growing heavier and heavier, like the tears were filling him up and weighing him down and soon enough they would take his lungs and he would drown.

He didn’t know what time it was when the buzz alerted him that someone wished to gain access to his quarters.

“Go away!” He yelled like he were spitting up water. “I’m busy.” Smaller, trying to professionalize the words.

“Open the door, Hux.” The voice that asked was unfortunately familiar, and should not have been at his door.

“Ren! What are you doing here-” He paused and wiped his eyes. “Get back to the Medical Bay.”

“No.” A tapping sound, and Hux knew he was using override codes.The redhead shot up and turned away, a boat rocking in the waves, faced his desk and made sure he, himself, would not be seen crying.  

“Well.” Ren looked around as he stepped in, saw all the splintered wood and shattered glass. “It seems my senses were correct.”

“What do you mean, Ren.” His tone was flat and he was forcing down the noises he wanted to make, the sobbing, gargly little squeaks.

“Well I felt anger, and fire. I felt something too similar to myself.”

“Don’t compare us.”

“Then a sadness.”

Hux paused.

“It’s profound, and deep. And it feels like you are nothing, and that death would have been easier than failure.”

He felt the push to cry again, the disgusting feeling like all you had ever done was wrong. “You don’t know anything.” His voice faltered and shook and he felt like he was going to slide right back down into that huddled mess that he had been before Ren entered.

“I know too much.” The sound of glass under his boots alerted Hux to his movement, the feeling of a hand on his shoulder alerted him to it’s reality. Hux would have pushed him away weren’t it to reveal his face. “It’s funny.”

“What?” Staring at the jagged gashes in the hard sheen of New Order regulation black he had put into his desk.

“I was the one who wore a mask, but now you’re the one hiding your face.”

Hux closed his eyes and for a moment the only sound was that of another tear tapping on his desk. “I’m ugly when I cry.” Half truth.

“You aren’t, but I don’t think looks matter much to me.”

“Oh?”

“I’m ugly inside as out.” A breath, a darkness. “But you still maintain perfection.” The hand was on his cheek, and Hux knew Kylo could see him now, even before his head was turned to face Kylo. “You’re beautiful, more so when you’re angry.” And Hux saw the damage. Saw the scar Kylo refused to let properly heal, saw how far it ran down and across his face. Hux felt that his inhibitions must have faded with the frost on that long dead base that ruined him, because he reached out and held Kylo’s cheek too.

“Ren, you need to have this dressed-”

“No. I want it.” Kylo’s hand was on Hux’s hip now, and his eyes were somehow wiser than the other few times Hux had witnessed them. They were black, and maybe, it was hard to tell, full or empty with something, or nothing.

“This self harm-”

“As though we aren’t both doing it in one way or another.”

Hux couldn’t argue, just take a deep breath and let the embers in him cool. “We’re a mess.”

“I was already there.” He saw the ghost of a smile turn at the edges of Kylo’s lips. “It’s kind of you to finally join me.”

Hux chuckled, this contrast in him stark and unfamiliar. He was not used to contrasts, or feelings fighting inside of him- but lay, Kylo evoked such, as if he were showing hux a taste of what was always inside of him.

Kylo did let himself smile at the General's unabashed form. “If you could skip the meltdowns, you would be nice to act like this more.”

“That would be like asking you to skip your’s.”

“Don’t fault me for trying, you always did.”

“Mhm.” Hux’s hand had fallen to Kylo’s shoulder somewhere in all of this, and the position it made reminded Hux of another long since passed time. Of soldiers out of their element, the smell of champagne, of black suits and military waltz. “You know, this is almost a waltz.”

“Oh?”

Hux nodded. “Have you ever?”

“Do I look the type?”

“Maybe not, but you are full of surprises.”

“Not this time.”

Hux took the hand Kylo did not have stationed on his hip and held it in the one he did not have on Kylo’s shoulder. This distraction, Hux thought, was maybe selfish- but Hux was a selfish man. “Would you care to learn?”

“I would love to.”

Hux lead, because Kylo trying to do so would be even more chaos than they were acquainted with, and because if Kylo tried this would surely end up less a waltz and more a car crash. So he twirled him and Kylo, over broken glass once more, and the cracking, crunching sounds it made was maybe the only music that fit such a dance as this. One between two tyrants, two monsters with the deaths of millions on their hands. Two humans, here and alive, as afraid and self loathing as they were magnificent and beautiful. Two hurricanes that managed, for the moment, to merge into something more devastating rather than destroy each other.

From Kylo, Hux had expected very little in the way of grace. He fought like a medieval knight and bets could be placed that he would dance the same. But as the Knight often did he surprised Hux with an ability to follow movements and let free his normally awkward, stiff demeanor.

“You’re quite good at this.” Hux half smiled as they swayed.

“No, you are. I’m just good at following.”

“My dear Ren, if that were true then the Finalizer would be in one piece.”

Now Ren chuckled, and the Force crackled around them as much as the glass beneath their heels. In his smile, were Hux a poet able to express it properly, he could see many things. Youth, too young for the life it had lived, and contrastingly- an age, millennia of ancient magics all packed into some 30 odd years. A knowledge of things no human life should have the ability or power to learn swam just behind his eyes. Unimaginable concepts sung just behind his lips.

There were things in Ren Hux would never understand, but in this moment, while they held each other close, and Kylo smiled, none of that mattered.

Kylo’s smile faded after a long moment, but into that calm buzz always on one's face in the aftermath rather than a frown. He looked down at Hux, in all of his disheveled glory, and didn’t need to delve into the gingers mind. All he needed to know he could see plain on the Generals unguarded face. Youth, a man far too young to stand where he now stood, to bear on his shoulders after only 30 odd years of life the weight of a military empire, the weight of failure, and contrastingly- an age, a boy turned man too young, a soldier at his very core since before he knew what the word meant.

There were things in Hux Kylo didn’t want to understand, but in this moment, while they held each other close, and Kylo wanted Hux to smile, none of that mattered.

Kylo leaned down and kissed Hux, soft and probing, a test of reaction and a crime of passion all in one. When Hux didn’t pull away Kylo found relief, and when he pushed them closer together, deepened the kiss, Kylo found god.

Before either of them could truly think about their actions Hux was pinned by Kylo’s body to his desk, and they let every emotion, every moment of distress and anger and hatred- for everything, for each other, out in a torrent of teeth and tongue. It was like watching dry leaves burn, happened bright and fast and when Hux realized he was being undressed they were kissing sweetly.

Ren seemed to pause just after he slid the belt off Hux’s waist. “Do you want this-”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure-”

“Yes, Ren, now let’s continue-.”

“I simply want to make sure-”

“Look through my bleeding mind if you have too! I’m giving full, enthusiastic consent!”

Kylo smiled again, but this wasn’t one of telling. This one was head slightly down, body slightly squared. This one was predatory. “As you wish.” And the rest of the fabric dividing them was off, and the rest of their inhibitions were consigned to the ash heap of history.

Ren was as animal in this as in all other things, Hux found, but with a marked precision. An attention to detail that he showed in no other endeavor. When he did something, he would pay attention to Hux’s face, his reaction, and remember it. When it seemed positive, the action was repeated. When it seemed negative, Kylo refrained entirely. Hux wished Kylo always showed as much care as he was now, but he knew, too, that would never happen.

Kylo spent a long, arduous amount of time working Hux open and playing his positive/negative game. It could be called gentle if Kylo weren’t so uncoordinated, and Hux had the sneaking suspicion that Ren had not done this often, if at all. It was some type of pleasure to think about the concept. Ordained Ren, powerful Ren having never been with someone this way, not even in passing, being in one and only one sense ‘pure’. The idea was amusing.

When he felt the push against his entrance he was sharply snapped out of the fantasy.

“Are you ready, Hux?” The question really was a question, rather than the warning Hux often found it.The softness, the look of total control but mercy in Kylo’s face- it made Hux shiver in a way no other partner, submissive nor dominant ever had, because Ren, somehow always, was both.

“More than ready.” He admitted, in this slow, too slow process his face and shoulders had flushed and the cold desk on hot skin helped very little to calm him.

Ren might have nodded, or hummed a response. Hux wasn’t sure, because when Kylo was in him- wholly, entirely- he was seeing stars. “Ah-” A gasp, maybe, a plea.

“Was that too hard?” Yes, it was, but Hux was nothing if not a masochist.

“No, hah, keep going-”

Again, there may have been an acknowledgment of some sort, but when he was being fucked like this, by a well endowed Kylo Ren, everything around them seemed to fade into some nonexistent aether.

It took a long while for Hux’s  body to adjust, even with the preparation, but when he did he found himself unraveling. “Oh- Ren-” Became most of his speech, conscious thought. Rarely would Hux allow himself such an escape, so absolute and entire, but he was nothing if not emotionally broken, especially now. They both were, and they both needed this.

Kylo picked up his pace exponentially, in pursuit of his own pleasure as much as to watch all of the different ways the muscles in Hux’s face could move and form expression. He adored it, this power-not-power over Hux, he adored the way he could please him.

Hux’s orgasm almost caught the Knight by surprise he had been so deeply engrossed in Hux’s face. Hux was not so caught off guard. He was at an age, and a position, to know exactly what he wanted and in all of his gasping and squirming and moaning Kylo’s name he had gotten himself there in a wave of happy drugs and white hot light taking his vision. He rode it out for all that it was worth, and after a period of time he might call uncharacteristically long his muscles relaxed and his eyes closed.

“Oh, do I-” Kylo made the motion to pull out, sounded like a 16 year old.

Hux rolled his eyes, despite them being shut, and kept Kylo there with his legs. “No, finish.”

“What? Won’t that-”

“Ren, I want you too.”

Kylo wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and continued at his bruising little pace for a moment or two. A moment where he kissed Hux, and Hux kissed back, and want and satiation mixed and continued the long running motif of opposites in their lives until Kylo’s movements seized and he gasped into the crook of Hux’s neck. “Hux-” He was so choked, so desperate, Hux was sure now that he had never done this before.

When it had passed Ren was collapsed on top of the smaller man below him, and said man wasn’t able to comfortably breath. “Ren-” Hux pushed at his chest, knowing damn well that he couldn’t get the other off unless they wanted so.

“Sorry.” He sat up, arms to either side of Hux as he looked down all blown pupil and post orgasm glow. The sheen of sweat was apparent in the low light, and his hair was an absolute mess, but Hux couldn’t recall ever seeing something so wonderful as a post coital Kylo Ren.

Hux smiled at the visage, this could be some classical painting, he thought. Some ancient, cryptic work of two lovers bound by fate to fall together, a great dying.

Maybe it was hormones, so human and desperate, but Hux wouldn’t be been opposed to repeating this, and the adoration on Kylo’s features told Hux of how this boy was surely in love with him.

Maybe Hux wasn’t simply emotionally vulnerable, and maybe this meant something.

Maybe they would do this again, the waltz, the sex.

Maybe for the rest of their maybe short, maybe soon to end lives.


End file.
